Wedding Night the Missing Hours
by F. Rose Levitt
Summary: First from Bella's PoV, then Edward's, the missing hours of their wedding night are related in explicit but never vulgar detail. Physical love: New territory for both. Bella is full of bliss upon waking the next morning; Edward is not. What happened?


Wedding Night - The Missing Hours: Bella

Edward waded out, pulling me gently through the warm tropical waters. He stopped when the water was about chest-high. The sea was calm, so warm. The purpose for our swim, I knew, was to counteract the coldness of his smooth vampire body. His golden eyes were intense as he looked at me - all of me. He held both my hands just under the surface. The heat of his burning eyes on me and the water moving against my skin suddenly made me feel even more naked. With a deep blush spreading to my chest, I ducked quickly to submerge myself, hoping to cool off. I stood up, dripping, to find Edward still staring, frozen.

"Edward," I said, leaning in to place a brief kiss on the defined muscles of his flawless chest. I expected he would wrap his arms around me, but he did not release my hands; he held them almost stiffly at his sides under the water, not moving even when I pressed myself against him. He looked beautiful, as always, and even more perfect in the white light of the moon. His tall, pale form was indistinct under the water. Wanting to _feel_ him, I tried to release one hand, but he would not let go. So I moved my arm, his hand attached, around to his back. Still he would not release me. I pushed up against him, feeling his cool hard body against my own. What must this be like to _him _– the heat of my bare human skin against the marble of his torso? The thought further inflamed me; my pulse, already racing, sped up a notch. Still he did not move.

"Edward," I repeated worriedly, pulling back to look at his face, "you promised." A little of the urgency I felt crept into my voice. He maintained his unnatural stillness, kept his muscles locked down. His lifelong habit of self-restraint was too ingrained; he could not allow himself to respond. But his lips were parted and his breath came quickly, raggedly. His eyes were alive, wild – darkened now with hunger, not thirst. Just looking at him caused a tightening in my stomach.

How could I loosen his rigid control? How could I advance past his restraint without triggering his habitual fear of hurting me and the resulting guilt? (Also, I thought a little shakily, if he pushed me away tonight - while I was standing naked in front of him, my desperate need for him utterly exposed - I didn't know if I could survive that.)

So I, too, stood there, frozen with indecision.

Then I remembered that this experience was not new to only me. For all his century-old wisdom, Edward had never before been passionately in love or physically intimate with anyone. The knowledge gave me courage. Perhaps he just didn't know where to start. I decided to simply do what I wanted.

Never looking away from his eyes, I moved my arm slowly back through the water. I lifted and twisted Edward's hand until his palm was upward. Still watching him carefully, I brought his hand to cup my breast. How my face burned! I moved his hand to lift my breast up and caress it.

His response was instant. His eyes closed and he groaned deeply, from his belly.

"Ah, Bella!" He released my other hand, wound his arm around my waist and pulled me roughly to him. His mouth came down urgently against mine, tasting my lips, inhaling my breath. The unbelievable deliciousness of him; his scent, his taste, all mixed with the saltiness of the seawater. We had done it! We were here. It was going to happen! I was exultant. My Edward - my husband! – and I were going to make love for the first time. All the conditions were met; our virtue was safe; it was our wedding night. He couldn't stop me now when our kisses became too fervent, or push me away when he became too heated, or put an end when our touching got out of hand. Tonight it was _supposed_ to get out of hand. Finally.

His left hand, still on my breast, began to move caressingly. He watched my reaction as his palm brushed over my nipple. The feeling was indescribable. My breath came in odd fluttering, incomplete gulps of air; my nipples were impossibly tight with excitement. Of course I wanted more and pushed myself against him.

"I want to know what pleases you," he said, his voice husky, his palm making slow circles over my breast. He still watched my face. A coherent response was impossible. It occurred to me that while my aim had been to cause Edward to lose control, it was now _me_ who was losing it.

"Oh. _Oh_!" I gasped as he suddenly rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing a stab of pleasure to spread outward. But then he released me completely; I would have fallen over – my balance in the water was already wobbly – if he had not steadied me with his hands on my shoulders.

"My beautiful Bella," whispered Edward. "Let me just look at you." But he didn't just look; he moved his hands to my rib cage, his long fingers practically encircling me. He felt the curve of my waist, my hips. He reached around to feel my backside and then slipped his hands down to my upper thighs. These he stroked gently, his thumbs just brushing the crease between my legs. _Oh my!_ His touch drove me wild.

From the very beginning of our relationship, during all our careful kissing sessions, it had been my belief that my desire for Edward could not possibly get any stronger. He had driven me crazy with his cautious touches. Now, in the warm water, with his large hands - no longer cautious - moving all over me, his mouth urgent against mine, I was reduced to helpless, fierce longing. There was a hollow, a vacuum... something, in my mouth, my groin... somewhere... that urgently needed filling.

Edward brought one hand up to hold my chin firmly and, with a satisfied smile, watched me and heard my gasps as he again toyed with my breast. Still holding my face, he moved his mouth to replace his hand on my nipple.

"Oh, Edward," I whimpered, my head falling back as I surrendered to the incredible pleasure of it. Each nibble, each gentle pressure of his mouth sent a shock of pleasure through me, and I felt my whole pelvis tighten. As he suckled me, switching from breast to breast, my hands ranged over his shoulders, his back, glorying in the hard strength of him. His his fingers were again on my inner thigh, moving upward, stroking gently, higher and higher, until they cupped my mons, where they stopped. Despite the shyness I felt and the burning flush I knew was deepening over my face and chest, I parted my legs to allow him access and pushed myself against him. Unfortunately, I had forgotten we were chest-deep in the ocean - the movement caused my stance on the sea floor to loosen and I floated away from him.

"Oops," I said breathlessly. He laughed, but his eyes still burned, roaming over my body as he reached out to catch me. Instead of resuming his embrace, he shifted to hold me parallel to the surface of the water. He was slowing us down. With my face burning, my heart pounding, I was okay with that... for now.

"Just float," he said, "close your eyes." With one hand under my back, he let me float almost free. His other hand stroked my legs and thighs, moving across my hips, my stomach and chest. His smooth circular touches stirred the shallow water over my body so that it was both his hand and the water caressing me. His touches caused strange quivers inside me. My breath came in short shocks.

"Look at you," he said, "so lovely." I opened my eyes; he bent over then and kissed me, his hand still moving. His hungry eyes devoured me; he watched my breasts lift with each quick breath, my hips move under his hand. He held me up against his body now and reached between my legs in earnest, still watching me. My face was scalding; he would not release my eyes. His hand stroked gently on my outer labial lips, then his fingers slipped deeper into the wetness of my inner lips, touching, exploring. _Oh my god!_ Stroking upward, then back, he moved rhythmically, each up-stroke brushing against my clitoris, the very heart of my desire. The feeling was absolutely, indescribably, exquisite. My thoughts stopped; I slipped into a kind of delirium and just surrendered to the sweetness of it. I pushed myself against his hand; I clung helplessly to him; I squirmed under his touch. I never wanted him to stop.

"Oh Edward! Oh!" I was beside myself with longing; a heated wave of... I knew not what, growing, spiraling.

He moved faster now, a little rougher, still watching my face. "Yes. Yes, Bella, _yes_," he whispered encouragingly, his quick breaths matching mine. The heated wave grew and grew unbearably... then crested and crashed, flooding me with ecstasy, so that I arched up reflexively against Edward, crying out and grasping my arms around him. He held me to him, his other hand still stroking, coaxing the last spasms of pleasure from me.

"Oh. My. Goodness!" I gasped between breaths, kissing him, needing his mouth. "Oh Edward!"

He held me closely, brushed my wet hair back from my face, and gave me small sweet kisses, grinning all the while, almost smug with satisfaction.

"I wasn't sure I could please you that way," he said. "We are different species, after all."

"Not that different," I quipped, a little irked at his smugness. But my irritation was overwhelmed immediately by the amazing event that had just occurred, and the joy and relief I felt. I stroked his face with gentle fingers. "That was unbelievable," I whispered, blushing again and again as I remembered.

"That, my love," he stated firmly, "was only the beginning." I heard a wet swoosh as he swept me up. Using his lightning speed, he had us almost instantaneously out of the water and standing by the tree where his clothes and my towel hung. He lifted the towel and dried me off slowly, tenderly. Then he dropped the towel and pulled me close, my back tight against his cool front. He ran his hands up my torso, over my chest, all the while kissing my neck, the hollow of my throat, finding all those most sensitive spots he knew would flare my desire.

But I was done with passivity.

I turned to face him and stepped back. I had never before seen a fully naked man. There was no more obscuring ocean water to hide the full length of his body. I was struck by the total, unmistakable _maleness_ of Edward. He was not a boy, and he wasn't a statue, and he wasn't an impossibly beautiful mythical creature seen on the edge of a dream. While he possessed elements of all these, it was a man standing before me, full grown, with the undeniable evidence of his arousal no longer hidden from my sight.

For a moment I just stared at him in the bright light flowing from the open doors of the beach house. Then I remembered that I wanted to ask him something.

"How did you know...," I was blushing and blushing. I couldn't find the words.

"How did I know...?" he tilted his head, his eyebrows raised with curiosity. He could see my raging embarrassment. He moved a step closer and took my hand.

I was quiet, still blushing. Then I blurted, "How did you know how to... _touch_ me?" I paused, then asked the real question: "If this is your first time, how come you're so _good_ at it?"

He laughed and pulled me into his arms. I buried my face in his chest. "Bella, Bella," he crooned, "there was never anyone until you." He forced my chin up to look in my eyes. "I read some books," he said with his crooked grin, "and I spoke with my brothers. Also," he hesitated, "I have heard women when they think about what they like." My mouth popped open; I was shocked. Of course Edward read the minds of others, but I had never dreamed he would eavesdrop on a person's most private thoughts.

"I don't listen _purposely_, Bella," he said, "but sometimes I catch a thought or memory before I can block it out." He gave me a soft kiss. "Mainly, I have a good imagination." He ran his thumb gently over my lips. "From the time when I first knew I loved you, I have imagined what it would be like to touch you. To trace the shape of your lips with my fingers, to touch your throat. To feel the silkiness of your shoulders, to lift the weight of your breasts." He ran his hand down my shoulder. "So many times, thousands of times, I have pictured myself caressing every lovely curve and crease of your body, finding every secret place. It became a sort of rehearsal."

"Oh," I said weakly, lost in his words, loving them, especially the part about "secret places." My heart was hammering.

Edwards eyes darkened and smouldered, he stepped back and gestured at my naked body. "And if I _am_ 'good at it,' it's because _you_ provide plenty of motivation."

As he stared at my nakedness so I stared back at him. His beauty stunned me. It had always moved me, but tonight, naked in the moonlight, he surpassed all the beautiful men and gods ever born, dreamt or envisioned. His body was not over-muscled, he was lean; his powerful limbs graceful, even in stillness. My breath came faster as I studied him and, incredibly, my mouth watered. My fascinated stare was almost as uncomfortable for him as his was for me. I was reminded – again – that this was new territory for both of us. If he _could_ blush, he would be doing it now. I was enormously comforted knowing we were in this together.

"It's my turn to discover what gives _you_ pleasure," I said, taking his hand and pulling him through the glass doors, back to the bedroom.

I parked him by the huge white bed and, as I had devoured him with my eyes, I now did the same with my hands. "Be still," I ordered as he moved to embrace me. I moved my hands slowly, firmly - my fingers rubbing, digging in, attempting to sense the true nature of him – over his chest and around his waist, down over his buttocks, taking my time, savoring the perfection of him. My gorgeous, dazzling Edward. Every inch of him a beautiful revelation. His strength, his hardness excited me.

Now his breath came in gasps, his hands twitched to touch me, but he retained his passive stance. I continued my explorations. Just touching his nakedness was unbearably exciting. I began a trail of kisses over his chest. I licked his nipples. His taste! The delightful taste of Edward, still salty, mixed with his intoxicating scent was almost enough to carry me away again. I bit down on his nipple, feeling its hardness with my tongue... appreciating that tiny ultra-masculine patch of him. I bit again, this time not so gently. He gave an involuntary moan. The sound was electrifying! That I could arouse him as he had done so skillfully with me was intensely gratifying.

The last year's unrelenting difficulties and frustrations suddenly infuriated me; all of Edward's caution and restraint, all of the barriers and roadblocks to our love; the way fate seemed to conspire against us. And all those times he had kissed me too carefully; all the touches that were forbidden; all my pent-up desire and need... And Edward, my so-careful lover, standing there, still careful, still restrained. I longed to evoke from him the sort of wild passion that I had experienced; I wanted to break through his control, just smash it.

With my mouth still on his nipple, I wound one arm tightly around his waist and trailed my other hand down over his hip to touch the powerful contours of his thigh. Blushing but determined, I stroked his thigh upward, not gently, to cup my hand around his testicles. He shuddered and forced my head up to claim my mouth greedily. With my hand now on his erection, I wasn't sure how to please him, but since a steady rhythm had given me so much pleasure, I started stroking. I seemed to have done it correctly. "Bella!" he groaned, his eyes closing, his head falling back. _Oh my!_ I thought, elated. I loved seeing him like this! His arousal deepened my own, causing me to move faster.

We were suddenly on the bed, Edward holding his weight over me, forcing my legs open as he positioned himself between them. He was trembling, shuddering, struggling for control.

"Oh Edward!" I was impossibly excited; I couldn't breathe.

"Bella, are you ready for me?" his voice, hoarse with passion, was barely recognizable.

"Oh yes! Yes!"

"This might hurt you, Bella," he whispered, still holding back.

"Oh god, Edward, do it NOW!" I was practically screaming as I arched up against him, trying uselessly to pull him down on top of me.

And then he was inside me, his first thrust pushing easily through the last barrier. I gave a tiny cry of pain. How he kept from moving, I do not know. He held my face. He was shuddering; I was shuddering. He waited. The pain passed.

Hovering to protect me from his weight, he moved slowly out and then in again, the cool hardness of his erection pulling and pushing my sensitive tissues. The exquisite feel of it was otherworldly. I felt my heated tightness around him; his hardness; the intimacy of it; our connection - I was suddenly overcome with love for him. It was too much; tears spilled down my face from the excess. I clutched him to me, wrapped my legs around him and rocked my hips so that he could move deeper still. He lowered himself until our whole bodies were touching. The feel of him! The perfect fit of us together. He whispered my name over and over, moving faster, harder. Finally his need overtook his control. He pinned my arms down, buried his head in the pillow and drove into me urgently, convulsively, until with a deep, muffled roar, he stiffened and spilled his seed inside me.

My heart was overwhelmed; my tears continued. I refused to let him go. He was still shuddering in the aftermath; I could feel the last little spurts of his climax inside me. I clutched him tightly to me, glorying in the knowledge that we had done this perfect thing together; that Edward had finally found release. And that his pleasure had been as intense as my own.

He stroked my face; he kissed my cheeks, my eyes, my lips. "My love, my love," he whispered, "my beautiful girl." He was so tender, his hands so gentle. His eyes, unguarded for once, were soft with his love for me and with... contentment. My tense, careful, oh-so-controlled Edward, content. Happiness bubbled up inside me with new tears that he kissed away, smiling, knowing they came from joy.

When he lifted his weight off me and rolled to the side, we caressed each other wonderingly, luxuriating in the delicious, lazy afterglow of our loving. That a human lifetime could bring such joy, such pleasure! I couldn't imagine anything sweeter, more wonderful than being here in Edward's arms, my fingers exploring his perfect face, my body still tingling with residual passion.

My hands wandered possessively over him, feeling the satiny marble of his bare skin, the hard mounds of musculature over his back, his shoulders and chest. I became conscious of the raw stone strength of him - the knowledge that he could easily crush me but never would; that he would never tire, that he was always awake, alert, could never be caught off guard; that his strength was _dangerous_ but contained; that beneath the intellect, the civil modern veneer, he was something _other_ than human - impossibly stronger, faster... _deadly_. My own personal monster. Reckoning that I was quite possibly demented, these thoughts only served to rekindle my desire. Snuggling up closer to him, I wanted to feel that strength against me.

"I love you," whispered Edward softly close to my ear, "I love you so very much." He kissed me lightly and smoothed my hair back. "How can I ever thank you for this? For transforming my dark, weary half-life into this bright, full existence?"

"Well, for starters," I answered, pulling on his hand, wanting more intimate touches from him, "you could do _this_." I squeezed his palm to my breast, and looked up at him, hoping he wouldn't find me too brazen. He laughed freely, then fell to massaging my breast thoroughly. Since I felt the immediate evidence of his excitement against my leg, it seemed he didn't mind my brazenness. Just knowing he was hard again so quickly inflamed me further.

"Again?" he smiled, his eyes sparkling with humor... and desire.

"Oh yes," I managed to gasp as his tongue rolled over my nipple.

He sat up and pulled me onto his lap where he continued his attentions to my breasts, taking them both in his hands, lifting them, swirling them around my chest. Then using his fingers on the sensitive tips, he pinched them gently, rhythmically, each pinch causing me to inhale sharply. _Oh goodness!_

I kissed him greedily, hungrily.

Wanting more of him, I pushed his shoulders down against the bed and sat up on my knees, spreading my legs over him. I reached down to find him hard, ready. I guided the tip of his erection against my labial lips, slipping it just barely inside, thoroughly wetting it. I gave a giddy half-laugh, shocked at my own behavior. Holding the smooth hard shaft of him, I slid the tip along the length of the slit from my clitoris to the vaginal opening, back and forth. The slipperiness of my own juices excited me, causing me to speed up. His eyes were wide, astonished; his breath ragged, his mouth a wide grin. I gave another breathless laugh, blushed deeply over my boldness and hoped he would simply accept this new aspect of me... I _was_ brazen. My heart hammered in my chest. My hand was still on him, loving the feel of him, the hardness of his erection. Squeezing him, feeling him, suddenly I wanted all of him. Guiding him into me, I sat down abruptly, totally engulfing him. He was stunned; he gaped at me. My own face was hot; my eyes were hot. Using my knees, I lifted up again, then down, riding him. He filled me up.

"Ah, Bella!" he moaned, his eyes wide with surprised pleasure. I watched him watching me. I tried to picture what he saw: Myself over him, riding him, my wet hair tangled, my breasts rising and falling, my eyes locked to his and my breath coming fast, jaggedly. It was incredibly sexy. His left hand glided down, over my belly. He moistened his thumb in my juices and used it to push firmly back and forth on the hood of my clitoris. The shock of it caused me to cry out; I almost toppled to one side. He locked his hand on my forearm to steady me, I clamped my fingers around his wrist, and resumed my wild ride. As he stroked his thumb steadily over the very source of my need, he matched the rhythm of my own movement on him. _Oh god!_ He was in me, filling me, and touching me perfectly! His eyes bored into mine. My skin became flushed all over and I began to ride him faster. My breath came in gasps, each exhale ending in a moan. Still I watched him until the pleasure became too much... my head fell back, my eyes closed, I gave myself over to the rapture of it. My climax was coming, crashing over me, my face crumbling with its intensity. In my ecstasy, my rhythm faltered, so Edward grasped my hips, and with his strong hands lifted me up easily, then pulled me back down on him again, and again. Faster, his urgency growing, his hips thrusting up, he closed his eyes and, with a deep groan, emptied his seed in an insistent surge, shuddering in his release. I collapsed on his cool chest, utterly spent, his strong arms all around me.

I didn't want to move. I wasn't sure my muscles would obey, anyway. So I just lay there, letting the delicious, seductive lethargy pull me down. Exhaustion overtook me; the powerful events of the last few days and my lack of sleep finally caught up with me. But the exhaustion was sweet, flavored by the perfect satisfaction of my body and the happiness of my heart.

My pulse and breathing slowed. Edward hummed my lullaby and caressed my hair. "Sleep, love," he murmured. So I did.

Wedding Night - The Missing Hours: Edward

To give myself a little room, a little time, within which to think, I took Bella's hands and led her a short way deeper into the warm waters surrounding Isle Esme. She was standing naked before me. The sight took my breath away - literally. Each breath was short, choppy, truncated by a small knot of... anticipation, tension... something. I had of course seen pictures and photos of naked women before; seen also the _images_ of live naked women – images in the minds of other people – but only briefly, before I blocked the images out, giving what privacy I could to those who did not even know their privacy had been violated. But the reality of Bella's warm human body, bared, here with me right now, was like nothing I had seen or imagined before. Her beauty inspired a sense of awe... of _grace_. It also inspired lust. One part of my mind meditated on the bizarre dichotomy of grace and lust coexisting in a single gaze. The rest of my mind was completely captivated by Bella's loveliness, her presence. Her paleness in the moonlight almost matched my own. I took in all of her; the seawater not obscuring the sight from my vampire eyes. She was slender, but she had curves - curves which had been hidden by her wooly Pacific Northwest wardrobe. Her waist, her hips, the long smooth lengths of her legs in the water. Her breasts! They were not large, but there was _weight_ to them, weight I wanted to measure with my hands. Her nipples were as tight as if the water were cold... tightened instead by desire? Again my breathing was caught by a flash of excitement. How many times had I longed to see her thus? And how many times I had cut off that longing. And here she was. I watched her blush, the appealing pink spreading to her chest. She dipped into the water and reemerged dripping, tossing her long dark hair back from her face.

"Edward," she said softly, kissing my chest. Suppressing a groan at what her movements were stirring in me, I was suddenly glad to be hidden in the water by Bella's poor human eyesight. I had no wish to frighten her by allowing my own desire to become too obvious. As she leaned up against me, and I felt her human warmth, her human fragility, the impossible delicacy of her skin, her bones – I was again assailed by doubts. How could I, the stone-hard monster, possibly be allowed this kind of intimacy with a human? How in the world would I keep from hurting her? I held her hands stiffly and fought the protective instinct to push her away from me.

She called my name again, reminded me of my promise. There was worry, insecurity in her voice – also disappointment. She was staring at me; the need plain in her liquid brown eyes. Her heart took off, her breathing was ragged. With my extra senses, I could detect that her usual scent, sweet, floral, was now mixed with an unmistakable musk which seemed to tint the air with desire. The burning thirst in my throat was replaced with a new kind of burn... an unfamiliar burn – a hunger – spreading through my no-longer-so-cold body. It was new, frightening, absolutely astounding. I froze. I didn't know what to do! I - a hundred year-old man - was completely confounded by an eighteen year old girl.

I reminded myself that because of my ability hear the thoughts of others, I at least had some second-hand experience, while Bella had none. And though she liked to believe herself worldly, Bella was a virgin, truly an innocent. It had taken courage for her to be so forward, to shed her clothes and meet me here. Not that she wasn't always pushing for more physical closeness. But it had been my habit over the last year and half to stop touching her just when I wanted to touch her more intimately; to stop kissing her just when I wanted to kiss her more deeply. The daily struggle. It was an automatic response now: when my desire flared, I suppressed it. And it was more than sexual desire with Bella, always more... when my thirst flared, I suppressed that, too. The thirst was, these days, a lot easier to control. The physical desire was harder, especially recently, since I had agreed to make love to Bella before her vampiric transformation. She took liberties. I chuckled silently. She always pushed for more, testing my control, pushing against my restraint.

Well, tonight I could relinquish at least some of that restraint. I would try to match her courage. I would have to be careful, but tonight I could... _take_ her. The thought had me gulping more air, suddenly eager to explore her body, find her secret places, be the first to fulfill her.

Awed again that Bella could love me, _want_ me, I vowed to move slowly, gently.

Then she brought my hand up to cup her breast. The feel of it!

"Ah, Bella!" I groaned. Her touch galvanized me. I reached to embrace her; to kiss her hungrily, taste her lips, her salty skin.

"I want to know what pleases you," I said. Holding her to me, watching her face, I caressed her lovely breast, with its pinkish brown nipple. Nothing had ever felt so silken, so soft! Angel skin. I tried rolling her nipple between my thumb and forefinger; it seemed this pleased her quite well. She cried out, an involuntary double "oh"; her head fell back, eyes closed. The sound of her cry and the sight of her responsiveness; her unconscious pushes against my hand, were momentarily too much for me to handle. She was definitely fighting my _slowly-gently_ strategy.

I had to let go of her. This I did, but too quickly, and then had to steady her with my hands on her shoulders. The sight of her again - her nakedness - dazed me almost into incoherence. Though I didn't need air, I found myself unable to get enough.

"My beautiful Bella. Let me just look at you," I whispered. Drops of water sparkled on her arms, her breasts. Her dark hair fell in wet waves over her shoulders, down her back. She looked like an unearthly sea goddess, newly emerged, stunningly beautiful. I spread my hands over her carefully, wanting to feel every inch. I covered her torso with my hands, feeling the silkiness of her skin; I let my hands slide around her waist. The curve of it was intoxicating; I felt the swell of her hips and buttocks flaring out. I stroked her thighs; they were firm, strong. Her warm, soft flesh! I allowed my thumbs to rub gently at the crease where her legs joined her hips.

Bella no longer tried to hide her desire. Her breath came with little unconscious whimpers. Holding her face, kissing her, her mouth against mine was urgent, needy. Smiling, I watched her, aroused by her obvious pleasure. How gratifying was her response! I moved to kiss her breasts. The taste of her! The sweetness, the salt. I tried to keep my lips cautious. As carefully as I could, I nibbled repeatedly on her nipple.

"Oh, Edward," she cried softly. Holding her close with one arm, I continued to stimulate each sensitive breast with my mouth, tongue and teeth. Oh so carefully.

Her hands were all over me, insistent, almost demanding. I moved my other hand down to her inner thigh, feeling it, luxuriating in the satiny texture of it. Then moving my fingers up, up, I rested them on her mound. Her face and chest flushed with crimson heat. Was this too much? No... she parted her legs. I felt a sharp surge of satisfaction at this signal of her consent. Always I had treasured her "yeses," but this was a "yes" of an entirely different magnitude. It almost undid me. Wild, rough thoughts threatened my control. How on earth would I be able to do this without losing control and hurting her?

Luckily, Bella's natural lack of balance brought me back... she had lost her footing on the sea floor and started to float away. "Oops," she said. Laughing, I pulled her back, trying to get myself in hand.

_ Slowly, gently_, I reminded myself.

To keep her dangerous heat a safe distance from my body, I brought Bella up to float full length on the surface, my one arm braced under her back, holding her steady in the water. "Just float," I told her, "close your eyes."

Maintaining a sort of cushion of the warm tropical water between my cool hand and her body, I began to stroke Bella all over. My thought had been to protect her from my vampire coolness but truly, between the tropical water and Bella's own furnace-like heat, my hands were no longer cold. Using my most acute senses, I touched and stroked her, bringing soft pressure to bear on her flesh, sliding my hand from her ankle to her hip, over her belly, chest and breasts. I tried to gauge her most minute reactions and respond as she wished.

Her breath came in pants now, causing her breasts to heave. The rest of her body was moving almost rhythmically, deliciously, against my hand.

"Look at you. So lovely," I said softly, taking my own pleasure in the sight of her, the _feel_ of her. My love for her was overwhelming; I wanted nothing more than to love her, protect her, pleasure her, treasure her. She truly was my life. Lifting her up closer to me, I kissed her and watched her face as my hand continued its explorations. She was obviously ready for more. Her eyes were on fire as she clung to me; the darkened look of passion on her face kindling me. _Slowly, gently,_ I chanted silently.

I knew I would have to move forward boldly... what else could I do with her need so close to the surface, her warm trusting eyes begging me to continue? My only guide would have to be her response. Though I had read about the sex act over the years and knew all the physiological details, had felt lust in the minds of others, the reality was totally different. The lust was now _mine_ and this woman was Bella – my wife! – not some hypothetical partner. The beautiful sight of her, her warmth, her taste and scent; my own desire; the way our bodies seemed irresistibly drawn together - it was all new.

Moving my hand upward between her thighs, I arrived at the warm wet slit of her. I reached just barely inside her labia, feeling the slippery evidence of her arousal. What an extraordinary sensation! The heat of her! Slowly exploring, trying to find my way, I stroked upward, my sensitive fingers studying her contours; feeling her outer lips, following the small ridges of her inner lips until they met to form a hood over the tiny hard nub of her clitoris. This touch brought a sharp gasp from her. I moved my hand down again to feel the hint of her flower-like opening then slid my hand back up. She was pushing in a rhythm against me, so I tried to match each stroke. She was opening under my hand, a luscious heat radiating outward, her desire causing her to arch her back, push against my hand. Her head fell back, she closed her eyes. "Oh Edward!" she cried. Hearing my name burst from her lips, propelled by her passion, was intoxicating. I was drunk watching this! I needed no mind-reading ability to know what she wanted. I moved faster now, more urgently. She could no longer hold her own weight, so I held her up easily. "Yes, Bella, _yes_," I urged. I was caught up in the tide of her desire, lost in it; suddenly I needed her orgasm as much as she did. And as her climax came, it was astonishing – I could feel the tightening, the tiny quick pulses. She threw her arms around my neck and I held her tightly against me. My other hand was still stroking, but the surge was over and I withdrew.

"Oh my goodness!" Bella gasped. She seemed as astonished as I was. She kissed me, pulling on my lips with hers. "Oh Edward!" Music. I kissed her back, almost chuckling with satisfaction and relief. I brushed her hair back from her face.

"I wasn't sure I could please you that way," I said. "We are different species, after all." I was trying to keep mood light. I gave her several more small kisses, elated by my success.

"Not that different," she said shortly. But then she caressed my cheek tenderly, looking at me with wonder – and love – in her deep chocolate eyes. She was blushing again. "That was unbelievable," she said. I saw the memory of it still in her face, exciting her, her eyes still sparking.

I had done it! That I had been able to bring her such pleasure without hurting her was incredibly gratifying. It gave me courage. And it fired up my imagination.

"That, my love, was only the beginning," I said almost arrogantly. With a sudden urge to get her into bed, I used my supernatural speed to sweep her up out of the water, and back onto the beach.

In the bright light flowing from the glass doors of the beach house, I dried Bella off with the towel she had left hanging near my clothes. When she was dry, I pulled her backwards into me. The heat came off of her in voluptuous waves. I had long arms; I used them to roam all over her; I wanted to cover her entirely, possessively. I kissed her shoulders, her neck, the sensitive hollow above her collarbone.

But Bella pulled away, turned and stepped back. She looked at me for a long moment. Something was bothering her.

"How did you know...," she began, but cut off, blushing furiously.

She was obviously very embarrassed. I had no idea what she wanted. For the billionth time, I wished she was not immune to my thought-reading. "How did I know...?" I urged her to continue, taking her hand.

"How did you know how to _touch_ me?" she demanded. "If this is your first time, how come you're so _good_ at it?"

Ah. What a delightful admission from her! I laughed and pulled her into my arms. "Bella, Bella," I reassured her, "there has never been anyone until you." I forced her to look at me, to believe me. "I read some books and I spoke with my brothers." Over the decades, I had become familiar with erotic literature and had even explored the world of pornography. It had always been strangely impotent, unable to move me. That, along with my obvious indifference and apparently unromantic nature, was one of the reasons Esme worried that I been too young, unformed, when I was reborn as a vampire – with my _self_, mind and body, set in stone. My brothers were disbelieving and impatient that I had never shared their lustiness. They had long ago given up their ridiculous matchmaking efforts. In a way, I believe Esme had been right: I _had_ been too young. I had never really felt passionate about anything until I met Bella. Even my vigilante days, when I stalked serial killers and rapists, had been fueled by rage rather than passion. My music, too, while formed with beauty, had been more analytically inspired, a mathematical exercise which brought its own sort of pleasure. My love for Bella had changed all that. Irrevocably. I had matured; my lost humanity had reemerged, the boy had grown up, becoming a lover, a husband, a man for Bella.

And though these reflections had provided a few seconds of distraction, I had put off the next confession long enough. "Also," I told Bella, "I have heard women when they think about what they like." Oh yes, I had heard them. But it had never mattered. Their thoughts, no matter how lascivious, had never touched me. Until Bella, no one had ever inspired that kind of desire in me.

I could see she was shocked. "I don't listen _purposely_, Bella. But sometimes I catch a thought or memory before I can block it out." I kissed her gently. I wanted her to know it was only _she_ who aroused me. "Mainly, I have a good imagination. From the time I first knew I loved you, I have imagined what it would be like to touch you. To trace the shape of your lips with my fingers, to touch your throat. To feel the silkiness of your shoulders, to lift the weight of your breasts. So many times, thousands of times, I have pictured myself caressing every lovely curve and crease of your body, finding every secret place. It became a sort of rehearsal." My memories of these thoughts, the many nights spent engaged in this mental exercise, now coupled with the reality of her nakedness in the moonlight, had me breathing hoarsely again.

"Oh," she said, believing me.

I moved a step back and gestured at her beautiful pale form. "And if I _am_ 'good at it,' it's because _you_ provide plenty of motivation."

As I took in her naked loveliness, so she stared at me. She had probably never before seen a fully naked man. She studied me. For an instant I felt the impulse to cover up and almost laughed aloud. That I, after a hundred years, could now be struck with feelings of modesty! But I was also flagrantly aroused – I had the urge to protect her from the sight of me... she was, after all, a very young woman. But Bella was my _wife_. And her stirring, fascinated gaze suggested she desired no such protection. There was also an element of strong appreciation, of admiration, in her regard. I had always dismissed her assertions that she found me handsome... all vampires were attractive to their prey. But tonight, with her admiring brown eyes watching me with heated interest, for the first time ever, I felt... beautiful.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the house. "It's my turn to discover what gives _you_ pleasure," she announced.

We stood in the white bedroom, next to the enormous bed. Her eyes were burning as she still stared at every part of me. Then she started moving her hands over my body. The warmth, the fluttering touches, her appreciative caresses... I moved to take her in my arms but she instructed me to stay still. Apparently she no longer wished to be a passive recipient of my lovemaking – my bold, lovely Bella! As her hands moved, I closed my eyes, giving myself over to the sensation. The surrender of it, the intimacy... the feelings were wholly new. That there could be such exquisite pleasure in this world – for me, a creature not _of_ this world – was extraordinary, humbling. My love for my Bella, my wife, blossomed out, filling me yet again with gratitude.

Then I felt a warm moistness on my chest that could only be Bella's mouth. As a vampire, I could no longer get chills, but I _could_ shiver. I felt a subtle shift in Bella's touches: they were no longer so gentle, appreciative. They were... aggressive? Then her tongue was on my nipple. _Ah_. She bit the nipple. Definitely more aggressive. My control was slipping; I was tightening; I felt impossibly hard. She bit more firmly.

"Ah," I gave a low moan. I sucked more air down my throat to quench... something. It didn't help. There was no thirst, but there was _hunger_. Bella wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me still and with her other hand flat on my inner thigh, worked her way upwards. _I was going to lose it;_ I struggled to stay still. She cupped her hand over my scrotum and squeezed gently. I forced her to face to mine and claimed her mouth, sucking the sweetness from her. I was shuddering with the effort to maintain control. Then her hand was on my erection, stroking slowly.

"Bella," I groaned, "oh god!" My moans only caused her to grasp me more tightly and stroke faster. Uncannily, I was hot. My eyes were hot, my mouth was hot with her heat; hunger was burning deep in my belly and her hot hand was on the very heart of that hunger. I wanted her _now_.

Almost instantly, I had her on the bed under me. _So much for slowly-gently_. I didn't care. I felt wild, rash. I forced her legs open and positioned myself with the tip of my erection poised over her open, willing moistness. "Oh Edward," she cried, the passion plain in her voice. _It was going to happen!_

"Bella, are you ready for me?" I asked. What if she said no? I didn't care.

"Oh yes!" she answered. Another "yes," a rather important one, but I didn't care.

"This might hurt you, Bella." What was I _doing? -_ to be prolonging this was torture.

"Oh god, Edward, do it now!" Bella was almost frantic, trying to arch up against me.

I plunged into her, my hardness passing easily through her hymen. _Oh good god!_ A roar was growing somewhere inside me. But she had stiffened and cried out in pain. I held still, straining for control, tremors shaking me. She, too, trembled. Her face was close to mine; I held it with one hand. The heat was coming off her in waves; we stared into each other's eyes, both of us taking huge shuddering breaths.

Then I felt her relax, the hold of her virgin sheath loosened slightly as she tested the feeling of me inside her. I slid out slowly, then back in. The incredible silky, slippery texture of her!

"Ooo, mmm," she gave inarticulate little cries, her voice high.

I moved now with more confidence. The feeling was absolutely unearthly. Her tightness surrounded me. The wetness and warmth. There was no pleasure, nothing – had never _been_ anything – like this. _This!_

"Bella. Bella," I murmured, touching her face with one hand. I was still holding myself above her. Tears spilled from her eyes; I understood completely. She wrapped her legs around me and met each of my thrusts with a matching push of her hips. I lowered myself to feel her skin on mine. We moved in perfect unison, faster now. "Oh Bella. Bella!" I felt the roar returning, something building inside me, ready to burst. It was going to overtake me. I gripped her arms, held her down. Suddenly needing to rip something with my teeth, I bit at the pillows, tearing, ripping, all the while driving, pumping urgently into her. Then the roar possessed me; I came explosively – my roar erupted into the pillow and my seed gushed into Bella.

I lay stunned for an endless out-of-time moment, wrapped in her arms and legs, shuddering intermittently with the after-spasms of my climax. Then I looked into her wide eyes, soft now with loving me, and kissed them, kissed her tears, kissed her face all over. "My love, my love. My beautiful girl," I whispered, overwhelmed with tenderness for her.

I had made love to Bella, and fulfilled her. In turn, my own release had been complete, my satisfaction total. And here she was, with love in her beautiful eyes, wonderfully alive and unhurt.

My frozen heart was whole; I accepted with gratitude the simple-but-profound human peace offered by loving her, being loved in return. Sighing, I smiled at my wife.

New tears rolled down her cheeks. Bella often cried for unusual reasons; these were tears of happiness and relief. I kissed them away and rolled over to my side, one arm under her, the other caressing her hair. As she touched my face with soft fingers, I pondered what had just happened. My father and brothers had told me that sex was a very great pleasure, and I had heard the pleasure in their thoughts as they explained. But what just had happened with Bella and me was something different, something more. Perhaps our months and months of delayed, pent-up desire had caused the actual act to provide more than pleasure, more than relief. Or perhaps it was my hyper-awareness of Bella's fragility and the carefulness with which I knew I must treat her that caused our touching to be somehow electric. We had experienced that same electricity from the earliest days of our courtship: I recalled the long-ago movie day in our biology class; the almost-tangible charge sparking between us in the dark room. But it wasn't just me; Bella, too, had been powerfully moved.

Now she was running her hands all over me, seeming to take pleasure in the smooth vampire hardness of my body. A century of bleakness, of hating the monster I was, and now my wife was taking pleasure from it! My world tilted; for once I didn't detest the monster. The changes Bella wrought in my life continued to astound me.

"I love you so very much," I told her. She snuggled up against me. "How can I ever thank you for this? For transforming my dark, weary half-life into this bright, full existence?"

She pulled on my hand. "For starters," she said with a wicked twinkle in her eye, "you could do _this_." She brought my hand to cup her breast and, with her hand over mine, squeezed.

Laughing, I obligingly caressed her breast. My body responded instantly; I was hard, wanting her again. Another perk of being a vampire, I realized, was the ability to perform without rest. Well, it would come in handy tonight.

"Again?" I asked, with my own wicked gleam. I suckled on her nipple. She gasped.

"Oh yes," answered my lustful little wife. I laughed again with delight in the always-unpredictable Bella.

Sitting up, I pulled Bella onto my lap and gave my attention to her enchanting breasts. I lifted them, measuring their weight and laughed again, this time at being able to fulfill my earlier fantasy of weighing Bella's breasts in my hands. _ This is a night of dreams fulfilled_, I mused. Knowing how she seemed to enjoy rhythms, I surrounded each nipple with my fingers and pinched them rhythmically. Bella liked this. A lot. She sucked in her breath and kissed me, licking my lips, taking them into her mouth.

Then she pushed my shoulders roughly (for her) down to the bed, pinned my arms momentarily over my head, and then kneeled, spreading her legs over me. Her eyes were beyond wicked as she released my arms, sat up, reached down between her legs and grasped my hardness. Her nostrils flared as she dipped the tip of my erection inside her; she inhaled between her teeth. I could see her thoughts were... dirty. How amazing! I grinned hugely. Then I caught my breath has she began to slide the tip of me back and forth through her slippery moistness. She blushed and laughed, both embarrassed and delighted by her own boldness. She held my shaft with all of her fingers, playing with it, moving me back and forth, the tip moving just barely in and out between her labial folds. She was toying with me; the sensation was excruciatingly tantalizing. My wild, rough thoughts returned.

Abruptly, she sat down, impaling herself on me. _Whoa._ I reached up to caress her hips, her waist, her breasts. She began to ride, using her knees to lift herself up and down. "Bella!" I moaned. She stared at my astonished face, her own face bright red. I gaped at her scalding eyes, her wild hair, her breasts bouncing as she rode me, her breaths coming fast. Her lips were a little swollen from our lovemaking and her mouth a little distorted with passion. _Good god._ She looked like some fantastic creature from an impossibly erotic dream. I spread my fingers wide over her belly and hooked my thumb between her legs. For an instant I touched my erection, felt it slide in and out of her. _Damn!_ I swore, the carnality of the moment sweeping over me. Taking a hard breath, I moved my thumb to rub back and forth on the hood of her clitoris. A cry burst from Bella; she would have fallen over had I not gripped her forearm. She clasped my wrist and resumed her ride. Her intense, ravenous eyes were still staring down at me. Continuing my manipulations, I could feel the hard, tiny rod-like shape of her clitoris beneath its hood. She was moving faster now, and my thumb increased its pace to match hers. Her every breath was a moan. Her skin became flushed, her eyes closed and the pleasure overtook her. She tightened around me – I couldn't believe how tight – and then she came, her muscles fluttering against my erection. _God, what a feeling!_ I spread my hands around her hips and backside and began thrusting upwards, lifting her, pulling her down, harder, faster, until my own climax exploded. I shuddered; the release was exquisite. Bella fell onto my chest; I embraced her, savoring the last little quivers of her orgasm and mine.

Bella's body was completely loose as she sprawled like a rag doll over me. The heat was still radiating out from her and I was grateful that my naturally cold body would cool her down in the equatorial humidity of our island. Another reason not to hate the monster.

Though her breathing and heart slowed, she showed no inclination to move. I lightly smoothed her hair. She must be exhausted; she had gotten little sleep the night before the wedding and practically none while we traveled. The tense buildup to the wedding and the emotional events during it must have taken their toll. Humming her lullaby, I hoped it wouldn't take her long to nod off.

"Sleep, love," I whispered. Her breathing slowed even further and she fell asleep.

With Bella sleeping, I had the leisure to review the remarkable events of this evening. Our lovemaking had been a series of astounding revelations. I'm not sure what I expected – I rarely allowed myself to actually _picture_ consummation with Bella – but whatever I _was_ expecting, the reality surpassed even my most fervent fantasies.

First, my attempts to please Bella physically appear to have been highly successful. She had been satisfied. And none of it had hurt her. I remembered her face during climax, her features contorted with exhilaration and pleasure. The memory stimulated me; a part of my mind started conjuring variations I'd like to try out with her.

Next, my own pleasure had been complete – the intensity, the perfectly exquisite moment of release seemed magical, almost spiritual. I was struck again by the odd pairing of lust and grace. Lust had never inspired much more than my contempt. It now seemed to deserve a little more consideration.

Lastly, Bella's astonishing transformation into an aggressive, sensual creature. Bella! The shy girl whose easy blushes colored her face whenever attention was on her; Bella, the virgin who - all the while complaining about our enforced chastity - blushed even when I just brushed my hand along her collarbone; Bella, who was the consummate people-pleaser, always preferring that others take precedence. Bella taking – no _demanding_ – her own pleasure. It was beyond anything I ever believed could occur. And_ I_ would be the lucky recipient of Bella's remarkable blossoming. I chuckled with anticipation, her wild ride vivid in my memory.

Bella's body had cooled down, so I gently rolled her onto the bed and fluffed the pillows to place under her head. A cloud of feathers erupted into the air to cover us both. For a moment I was mystified, then remembered – the burst pillows were evidence of the intensity of my pleasure. I chuckled again. Well, we could spend nights in the other bedroom until the cleaning crew came.

I settled down to one of my favorite activities: watching Bella sleep.

As I replayed the evening in my head, and what it augured for our future, only one thought marred my contentment. I was not human; could never again be human. My coupling with Bella would be forever sterile. I could fill her with my seed but never cause her womb to quicken. I pushed the thought out of my head. It was borrowing sadness on a night that had been filled with joy.

When the tropical dawn light shined into the room, I noticed a mottling on the arm Bella had cast over my chest in her sleep. At first I thought it was the result of an odd refraction of light through the glass. Looking more closely, I saw that the patch on her arm was red, inflamed, and already bruising up. Fighting panic, I gently turned her over and made a slow careful inspection of her body. Wherever I had gripped her during our lovemaking, angry bruises – in the shape of my hands – were forming. Her arms, forearm, hips. There was a small bruise on her face and her lips were still swollen. I lay back on the bed. Even in her sleep, Bella sensed the distance between us and snuggled up.

I was appalled. Bella had _not_ been unhurt. I had taken my pleasure in her - twice! – with the result that she now lay injured, her skin darkening with the hideous marks of my selfishness.

What had I been thinking? Why had I agreed to her insane proposal? Miserable, stupid mistake. Bella had trusted that I would not hurt her; had even said she believed I was incapable of hurting her! Her certainty had been a deciding factor. My betrayal of that trust was excruciating. Vampires can't weep. But I wept soundlessly, tearlessly, my throat constricted with pain.

The thing was... I had no memory of hurting her! It had been unconsciously done, which of course, made it all the worse. I was just naturally bad for Bella. Bitterly I repented the softening of my loathing for my monster-self.

Well, I could not change what had happened, but I _could_ change the future. Bella was certain to minimize the effects of her injuries. She would forgive me, she always did. But I would never risk her again. We would return to our careful, chaste relationship. Sex would have to wait until Bella became a vampire and I could no longer hurt her. She wouldn't like it. How could she? I had already injured her and now I was planning to strip the human, physical sweetness from her honeymoon.

Grimly I watched the sun rise and waited for Bella to wake up.


End file.
